The Memoirs of Field-Marshal Wilhelm Keitel

by Walter Gorlitz

  Hacha of course could not have known that no sooner had dusk fallen that evening, 14th March, than the ‘Adolf Hitler’ SS-bodyguard troops had already invaded the Moravian Ostrau strip to safeguard the modern steel mill at Witkowitz against seizure by the Poles; we still had no reports on how this operation had gone.

  At midnight Hacha arrived, accompanied by his Foreign Secretary [Chvalkovsky] and the Czech Minister in Berlin [Mastny]; they were received by Hitler and a large company in the Führer’s study at the new Reich Chancellery building. Göring was there as well. After an introductory dialogue, during which Hacha delivered himself of a long-winded description of his career in the Austrian civil service—a situation which in my mental turmoil I again failed to comprehend—Hitler interrupted him to say that in view of the lateness of the hour he was obliged to come round to the political questions which were the reasons for Hacha’s presence. We were asked to withdraw. Twice I was obliged briefly to interrupt the discussions between the statesmen (I believe that apart from them only Ribbentrop was present, with Hewel to take the minutes). The first occasion was when I had to hand in a brief note I had written to the effect that Witkowitz had been occupied by the Bodyguard troops without a struggle; Hitler read it and nodded his satisfaction. The second time was to deliver a warning about the lateness of the hour; the Army was asking for a final decision on whether they were to march or not. I was dismissed abruptly with the reply that it was still only two o’clock and the order would be issued before four.

  Some time later Göring and I were called back in again. The gentlemen were standing round the table and Hitler was telling Hacha that it was up to him to decide what he intended to do; Keitel would confirm that our troops were already on the march and would be crossing the frontier at six o’clock, and he—Hacha—alone had it in his power to decide whether blood would be shed or his country be peacefully occupied. Hacha begged for a respite, as he had to telephone his government in Prague, and could he be given a telephone line to them? Would Hitler see that the troop movements were halted at once? Hitler refused: I would confirm, he said, that that was now impossible as our troops were already approaching the frontier. Before I could open my mouth, Göring intervened to announce that his Air Force would be appearing over Prague at dawn, and he could not change that now; it was up to Hacha whether there would be any bombing or not. Under this great pressure, Hacha explained that he wanted to avoid bloodshed at any cost and turned to me to ask how he could contact his country’s garrisons and frontier troops and warn them of the German invasion, so that he could forbid them to open fire.

  I offered to draft a telegram to that effect addressed to all his commanders and garrison headquarters at once, for him to send to Prague. When I had finished it, Göring took it out of my hands and accompanied Hacha to a telephone where he was given a line to Prague. I went to the Führer and asked him to issue the War Office with an immediate executive order for the invasion, which should contain a clear instruction not to open fire, in similar vein to the instructions issued to the Czech army; if nevertheless there were signs of resistance, immediate attempts were to be made to negotiate, and force of arms was to be used only as a last resort.

  This order was passed to the Army at three o’clock, which left three clear hours for its complete distribution. It was a great weight off the minds of us soldiers; Brauchitsch and I admitted to each other how relieved we were at this outcome. In the interval, Hacha had dictated his instructions through to Prague and I saw him afterwards, very exhausted, in the ante-room of the Führer’s study, with Doctor Morell fussing over him. I felt enormously sorry for the old man and I walked over to him and reassured him that I was convinced there would be no shooting at all on the German side, as orders to that effect had now been issued, and I had no doubts that the Czech army would comply with the cease-fire and their orders not to offer resistance. In the meantime the two Foreign Secretaries had drafted a protocol of the agreement, the signing of which followed at a further gathering in Hitler’s study.

  After the War Office—I think it was Brauchitsch himself—had confirmed to me that all the orders had been issued, I reported to Hitler and asked if I might retire; I would report to him next morning in good time to accompany him to his special train. I had ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Zeitzler of the OKW operations staff to accompany me on the journey to the Czech frontier; there were no further dispositions for me to make as the overall direction of the occupation was solely the responsibility of the War Office, whose reports to the Führer Zeitzler had to collect and summarise for me from time to time.

  From the frontier onwards we drove in a long convoy of motor cars along the broad road to Prague; very shortly we came across the marching columns of our army. It was cold and wintry, there were snow drifts and black ice, and the mobile columns with their lorries and guns had to overcome the most formidable obstacles to their progress, particularly whenever our convoy wanted to overtake them.

  We reached the outskirts of Prague as dusk was falling, simultaneously with the first troop units, and escorted by a mobile company we drove down the Hradshin to where we were to be billeted. A cold supper was bought for us in the town as we had brought nothing with us: cold Prague ham, bread rolls, butter, cheese, fruit and Pilsner beer; it is the only time I ever saw Hitler drinking a tiny glass of beer. It tasted wonderful to us.

  I had to share an overnight room with my adjutant, but I was compensated next morning by the fabulous view over the city of Prague, which I still remembered from my honeymoon. The German Air Force’s propaganda fly-past over Prague—scheduled for 16th March—had to be abandoned because of fog. Towards midday Hitler received the Czech government to accept their declaration of loyalty; at their head was President Hacha, who had reached his presidential palace by special train from Berlin only some hours after us, to learn upon his arrival that the Führer had already installed himself in another wing of the official residence.

  Apart from the various official receptions and the State ceremony for the declaration of the Protectorate on the 16th, at which I was called upon to represent the armed forces, Hitler had no time for me, except when he received the brief reports our War Office sent in. I felt very superfluous most of the day; everybody was talking politics and I was kept out of that on principle.

  On 17th March we drove with a military escort through Brünn to Vienna. We stopped over at Brünn to have a look at the strangely beautiful old Town Hall there, which made a particularly vivid impression on me with its ancient conference chamber lit up by candles. In addition to the crowds of curious sightseers, several thousand native Germans had poured into the market square and they were making a tremendous din. To their enthusiastic acclaim the Führer inspected a German guard of honour which had been drawn up on the square.

  Our motor journey ended that evening in Vienna, after proceeding right across Czechoslovakia; in Vienna the ovations of March 1938 in front of the Imperial Hotel were repeated all over again. Down in the vestibule I met Freiherr von Neurath who had been called upon by the Führer to accept the office of ‘Protector of Bohemia and Moravia’; I learned of this from Neurath himself and I gained the impression that he found the prospect rather unedifying.

  A delegation had arrived in Vienna from the new government of the independent Slovak state, consisting of President Tiso, Minister of the Interior Durczansky, and Tuka who was both Foreign Secretary and War Minister combined. The Führer had decided that von Ribbentrop should draw up a Security Zone Treaty with them and that I was to work out the military clauses basic to it. Ribbentrop and I met the Slovak party late that evening—it was already approaching midnight—in the offices attached to the Gauleiter’s residence in Vienna. In accordance with my instructions from Hitler, I outlined the purpose and import of the ‘security zone’ which was to be occupied by German troops, just as Hitler had personally sketched it for me on the map: it took in a frontier strip about twelve to fifteen miles wide running in Slovak territory along the Czech b
order on both sides of the Vaag valley, and included a large troop training ground and a modern underground weapons factory operated by the former Czecho-Slovak state.

  It was not easy for me to justify our armed forces’ insistence on sovereign military rights and on stationing army and air force contingents there, in the eyes of these gentlemen (who probably recognised the significance of this frontier strip for their own national defence), nor was it easy to persuade them that all this was being done for Slovakia’s own protection. Nevertheless, I must have been able to meet the objections the Slovaks raised during their lengthy and often critical questioning to their satisfaction, for even though they were not wholly convinced, I did obtain their approval. I attribute this in the first instance to old Tuka, who idolised the Führer and helped to obviate the mistrust of the other two ministers.

  While Ribbentrop began to draft the treaty with the Slovaks, I drove back to the hotel to report my success to Hitler; I told him that the gentlemen would greatly appreciate an opportunity of being received by Hitler himself; at first he flatly refused, saying that it was already long past midnight and he was tired besides. But as I had promised Tiso and Tuka that I would arrange the audience for them, I insisted that he should see the Slovaks for ten minutes at least, and he finally agreed. Ribbentrop of course took his own time in coming, with the result that the audience finally took place at two o’clock in the morning; it ended a quarter of an hour later, after the Führer had smoothed over some of their last misgivings. The security zone was promised to us and that same night the agreement was signed by von Ribbentrop and the gentlemen.*

  The Führer’s Birthday [on 20th April] 1939 was celebrated as usual with a major military parade after the usual morning reception for the senior military commanders. The parade lasted for over three hours, a magnificent spectacle in which all three branches of the armed forces and the Waffen-SS as well were represented. At Hitler’s express request, our newest medium artillery, heavy tank guns, ultra-modern anti-aircraft guns, air force searchlight units and the like were paraded while fighter and bomber-squadrons roared overhead along the East-West axis [Brandenburg Chaussée] from the direction of the Brandenburg Gate. President Hacha, who was accompanied by Reich Protector von Neurath, was the Führer’s most honoured guest, and he was accorded all the honours due to a Head of State; the diplomatic corps was mustered to a man.†

  My hopes that, now that the Czech problem had finally been solved, the armed forces would be granted the respite until 1943 they had so solemnly and so often been promised for their fundamental organisational overhaul were doomed to disappointment. An army is not a weapon for improvisation: the raising of an officer- and NCO-corps and its education and internal consolidation are the only foundations upon which any army like the one we had in 1914 can be built. Hitler’s belief that National Socialist teaching could be used to make up for a basic lack of ability—in other words of military acumen—has proved illusory. Nobody would deny that it is possible to perform miracles with fanatical enthusiasm; but just as in 1914 the student regiments were senselessly bled to death at Langemarck, the élite troops of the SS have paid the greatest price in human life since 1943, and to the least avail. What they really needed was a perfectly rounded officer corps; but that had been sacrificed by then, with no hope of its ever being replaced.

  As early as April 1939 I became with increased frequency the target for comments by Hitler to the effect that the Polish problem was imperatively demanding a solution: what a tragedy it was, he said, that the sly old Marshal Pilsudski—with whom he had been able to sign a non-aggression pact—had died so prematurely; but the same might happen to him, Hitler, at any time. That was why he would have to try as soon as possible to resolve this intolerable position for Germany’s future whereby east Prussia was geographically cut off from the rest of the Reich; he could not postpone this job until later, or bequeath it to his successor. You could now see, Hitler added, how dependent reasonable policies were on one man’s existence: for Poland’s present rulers were anything but inclined to follow the path the Marshal had laid down, as had become abundantly clear during the talks with the Polish Foreign Secretary, [Colonel] Beck. Beck, said Hitler, was pinning his hopes on England’s assistance, although there was not the least doubt that as Britain had no economic interest in these purely domestic German affairs, she had no vital political interest either. Britain would take back her outstretched hand from Poland once she saw our resolve to remove this aftermath of the Diktat of Versailles, a condition which would be quite intolerable in the long run. He did not want a war with Poland over Danzig or the Corridor, but he who desired peace must prepare for war: that was the basis of all successful diplomacy.

  While the mills of diplomacy began to grind in Warsaw, in London and in Paris, the Führer grew emboldened in his resolve to create a fait accompli one day over Danzig: surely, that neither could nor would give the major powers any cause to intervene on Poland’s behalf, thereby permitting her to assail us by force of arms? Even so it was obviously our duty to prepare for such a contingency, namely that Poland would attack us on that pretext.

  Accordingly, during May 1939, the Führer’s directive—preparation for the White contingency—emerged, coupled with demands from Hitler to be ready by 1st September at the latest to go over to a war footing for a counter-attack on Poland should she prove intransigent, and to elaborate a plan of action for our army and air force. As in the case of Czechoslovakia, the order meant we had to avoid any kind of mobilisation whatsoever, nor could we use the regulations drawn up for mobilisation, or count on the state of alert resulting from the application of the mobilisation plan. This in turn meant that everything had to be based on the army’s peace-time strength, and on the possibilities afforded within this framework.

  After the Führer had addressed his instructions to his commanders-in-chief, first of all verbally and in person, and then more formally by the basic directive referred to, he retired as was his wont to the seclusion of his residence at the Berghof. Naturally that hampered my work at the High Command quite considerably, for everything had to be sent up to me either by courier or via his military adjutants, if I were not to travel down to Berchtesgaden myself, something I usually endeavoured to accomplish in one day by plane.

  In contrast to this, the Reich Chancellery had a permanent home at Berchtesgaden under Reichsminister Doctor Lammers, and the Party Chancellery a permanent residence in Munich; Göring also had a dwelling at the Berghof, and the Foreign Secretary an official residence at Fuschl, near Salzburg, which had been assigned to him by Hitler. Only the OKW, the High Command, lacked such a facility for its work at the time, although from the summer of 1940 onwards I was able to arrange for it to have some space partly in the Reich Chancellery quarters and partly in the barracks at Berchtesgaden. The result was an enforced physical detachment of the OKW from the real governmental nerve-centres and a lack of personal contact with the people who mattered, two circumstances which merely provided further encouragement to Hitler in his desire to make all his decisions himself and to sabotage any kind of community of effort.

  I accordingly learned as good as nothing of our negotiations with either Poland or London, and of their bearing on the Danzig Corridor question, except when Hitler himself took the initiative during my conference visits to him, or I brought it home to him how deeply worried the Army and I were about the possibility of an armed conflict with Poland when our army’s re-equipment programme was still at such an unsatisfactory stage. Again and again Hitler reassured me that he had no desire whatsoever for war with Poland—he would never let things go as far as that, even if France’s intervention in the spirit of her eastern commitments really was likely to occur. He had made to France the most far-reaching offers, he said, and even publicly disavowed his interest in Alsace-Lorraine; that was probably a guarantee which no other statesman than he could ever have justified to the German people; only he had the authority and the right to make such an offer.

/>   Indeed, he even went so far as to entreat me not to tell the War Office of how his mind was working, as he feared they would then cease to apply themselves to planning for the Polish contingency with the gravity and intensity which were such a vital element of his diplomatic charade, as the ‘concealed’ war preparations being made in Germany could not be kept wholly secret from or unobserved by the Poles. I believed I knew the War Office’s mentality and the General Staff’s conscientiousness better than he, and I did not consider myself bound by his entreaties.

  I believed Hitler, and I was taken in by his powers of verbal persuasion; I assumed that there would be a political solution, though not without the application of threats of military sanctions.

  The summer of 1939 passed with feverish activity in the Army General Staff. The construction of the West Wall proceeded at an accelerated rate; in addition to construction firms and the Todt Organisation, virtually the whole Reich Labour Service and several Army divisions were employed on it, the latter two concentrating on earth-works, barbed-wire entanglements and the final fitting out of the rough concrete fortifications for the defence of Germany.

  As was only natural, Hitler’s final tour of inspection in August 1939—on which I accompanied him—was made as much for propaganda purposes as for inspecting actual construction progress, about which he had anyway had himself kept continuously informed with maps on which the bunkers that had been completed, were still under construction, or were being planned, had been marked in. He had studied these maps so thoroughly that during our tour of inspection he knew exactly what was still outstanding and where to find each of the fortifications in the terrain. Often one could only marvel at his memory and powers of imagination.